


Sick Day

by minijhi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, this might be fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minijhi/pseuds/minijhi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himuro overworks himself.  Murasakibara takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Day

Himuro Tatsuya is miserable. 

He’s had a headache since he woke up that morning, and the painstakingly slow pace of which the whole day has been going by has only served to worsen it.  He doesn’t know why exactly this is happening, and the only reason he can think of is the fact that he’s pulled two-all nighters that week and has only had a maximum of two or three hours of sleep every other night.  With the grueling practice he does when he’s awake in addition to trying to stay on top of all his schoolwork, his body is going into shutdown mode.

He skips lunch in favour of burying his head on a desk in the quiet of the library, and the half-an-hour break of silence is a much-needed relief from everything going on outside.  However, the moment he goes back to class, the headache returns and it takes all the self-restraint that Himuro possesses to not walk out and go straight home.

 _It’s a Friday,_ he tells himself.  _You can do this._

By the time class lets out for the day, Himuro’s seeing black spots in front.  He clings to his open locker door on the pretense of looking for something, and takes deep breaths.  He’s so preoccupied with staying upright that he almost doesn’t notice the two-hundred centimeters of _person_ coming towards him.

Almost.  Sick or not, it’s nearly impossible to miss a purple-haired giant striding down the corridor. 

“You didn’t bring me food during lunch.” Murasakibara says accusingly as he approaches Himuro.

“Hmm?”  Himuro blinks, and the pain subsides long enough for him to focus on the taller boy.  “Sorry, Atsushi. I was in the library.”

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a handful of sweets as a peace offering.  They’re gone from his hand the second he makes the offer, and Murasakibara’s mouth is full of the candy.

Murasakibara looks down at him, frowning.

“Eat up.”  He says, dropping a wrapped piece of candy into Himuro’s hand. Himuro looks down at it, confused, but Murasakibara doesn’t explain.  He just points at the sweet insistently.

Himuro obediently unwraps the sweet and pops it into his mouth.  The sudden sweetness takes him off-guard, especially since he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Murasakibara looks satisfied, though, and proceeds to inspect the rest of the candies in his hand.

Himuro smiles, even though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Come, Atsushi.”  he says. “Let’s go to practice.”

 

-

 

The first hour of practice goes surprisingly smooth. Himuro doesn’t feel like he’s in his best condition, but he still plays better than most of the team.

It’s the second hour when things started going wrong. Himuro misses two shots in a row, because of some excuse he cannot properly formulate.  Or maybe he just doesn’t want to admit that his hands are shaking.

He ignores it, proceeding to score two hoops one after the other just to prove that he still can, and soon he’s locked in battle with Liu and Fukui for the ball.  Murasakibara hovers somewhere behind them, easily blocking the other first-years on the opposing team.

Beads of sweat cling to the tips of Himuro’s hair, and he’s more breathless than he would like.  The room also seems to be tilting on an angle, the other players swimming in and out of focus.  _This is it,_ he thinks. One more shot and he’s going to sit out for the next ten minutes. 

He twists his grip on the ball, throwing both his opponents off, and shoots off so quickly that they don’t react, expecting a fake. Fukui cuts him off after a few paces, and Himuro ducks down and fast, about to spin around to throw the ball when he hears a shout.

“Muro-chin!”  The panic in Atsushi’s voice is strangely uncharacteristic.

Himuro turns just in time to see Liu‘s elbow swinging towards his face.

Senses and reaction time dulled by exhaustion, he fails to avoid it in time, and pain blossoms throughout his face, headache magnifying and splitting his head into two.

“Oh.”  Himuro says numbly, and feels his body collapse to the floor.

 

-

 

He doesn’t pass out— he’s not that lucky. Instead, he curls up on the ground with everyone crowding over him and talking loudly.  Hands try to turn him over one way, and then the other, and Himuro weakly bats them away, eyes closed to fight off the swirling room.

“Move.”  He hears Atsushi’s deep voice command.  Soon he feels the Generation of Miracles player’s large hand touch his face softly, and then an arm sweeps across his back and pulls him into a standing position.

Faces swim before his eyes.

Liu looks incredibly apologetic, and Himuro tries to reassure him that he’s fine.  It doesn’t work, however, because the change in altitude has left him even dizzier than before, as if it were possible.  He ends up clinging to Murasakibara for all he’s worth as the taller boy half-drags, half-pushes Himuro to the side of the court.

“Back to practice!”  he hears Fukui shout.

The sound of the game gradually dies down as Murasakibara leads him out of the gymnasium.  Himuro starts to think that he’s feeling better, taking several steadier steps, when his legs start to give way beneath him.

“Atsushi, I think I’m—”  Himuro murmurs, leaning his head against the boy’s arm and taking a shaky breath.

“Muro-chin?”

Himuro finds a hand pulling at his hair, Murasakibara, trying to get his hair out of his face so that he can look at what’s wrong.  Himuro just presses closer to Muraskibara, shaking badly.

“Can’t.”  Himuro gasps.  He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say.  There’s a lot of things he can’t do right now, but he supposes his main ‘can’t’ is trying to stay upright and conscious.  The world is now practically upside-down and the horrible black spots have made a reappearance.

He feels Atsushi’s large hands take hold of him again, one around his waist, the other on his shoulder.  He shudders slightly as a cool hand brushes his warm skin.

“Sorry, Atsushi.”  Himuro manages to say before darkness engulfs him.

 

-

 

He wakes up lying with his head pillowed against something soft and warm, and it takes a moment to realize that his head is resting in Murasakibara’s _lap_. With a noise of surprise, he sits bolt upright, narrowly avoiding colliding with the younger boy’s chin.

They are sitting in the gym’s storage room, sunlight coming through tiny windows far overhead.  The room is dirty and crowded with the dusty footprints of every athlete who has tracked through the place.  It’s just like Murasakibara to bring him here, when the nurse’s room would be a far better choice.  He can’t complain though.  It’s quiet, and the darkness is soothing.

“You passed out during practice.”  Murasakibara says.  Himuro interprets that very obvious statement as one of concern and curiousity, and massages his forehead lightly.  The intense pressure from earlier that day is mostly gone, although his face still aches from the blow of Liu‘s elbow. His skin doesn’t feel as hot as it had right before he passed out, though, and he’s relieved. 

“Sorry.”  Himuro says.  “I haven’t been getting a lot of rest lately.  I think I was at my limit.  The elbow to the face didn’t help.”  he says with a smile.

Murasakibara considers the statement as he chews thoughtfully.  Himuro closes his eyes briefly.

When he opens them again, Murasakibara is looking at him intently.

“What is it?”  Himuro asks.

“You should go back to sleep.”  Murasakibara rumbles.  He reaches out and tugs Himuro’s head back onto his lap. “I found a lot of candy in your bag. I won’t be going anywhere for awhile.”

“Mm.”  Himuro says.  He would normally protest, attempt to get some sleep at home, go back to practice, chide Murasakibara for skipping or something, but he doesn’t.  He also decides not to bother bringing up the fact that Murasakibara had raided his school bag and taken away his sweets without asking. It’s not like they wouldn’t have ended up in Murasakibara’s stomach sooner or later anyway.  So instead he just sighs contentedly, and says, “Thanks, Atsushi.” 

He closes his eyes again, feeling safe and warm in an equipment storage room, and the sound of chewing lulls him back to sleep within seconds.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just got interested in these two recently! This was written as a oneshot, but after writing this I thought it would be nice if Himuro stays sick (or gets sicker!) and Murasakibara has to nurse him back to health, showing actual care for a human being for once. Might write that if I have the time :D


End file.
